Immortalys

Chapter Seven: Todd

Willow felt as if her eyes had been closed for ages. How long had she been knocked out? Her right arm throbbed at a point up near her shoulder. She clutched at it weakly with her left hand. She heard unfamiliar voices nearby, and they frightened her. She had no idea where she was, or what was happening to her.

Willow opened her eyes. The first thing she saw, which calmed her a little bit, was Friction, who was sitting up in a white bed and staring off to Willow's left. He looked dazed, his blue eyes wide and his blonde hair askew, but had evidently been participating in a conversation. Groggily, she followed his gaze looked up just in time to see a man with a slate-grey uniform leave the room through a thick, shiny door. Almost immediately, another man who was dressed identically entered the room and closed the door behind himself.

Willow rubbed her eyes and scrutinized the new arrival. He looked shrewd, untrustworthy. Then again, all of them had looked untrustworthy from what she remembered. Willow didn't know what to think. Her mind was boggled. This all still seemed like a dream. Those people with the crazy firsthand accounts were right... thought Willow: being in Immortalys had begun to mess with her brain.

She didn't know if she was tired or not, but her head spun as she sat up shakily. Even with her presently scrambled mind, she knew she wanted to get away. She imagined herself yelling, screaming at the officer who had just entered, leaping on him and pounding him to the floor. Then she would take the next officer down, and then the next one... and then she would get free...

But... hadn't she wanted to come here so badly in the first place? Willow scolded herself for being so stupid. It was so silly of her to think that Immortalys was a utopian city... Now she was trapped, and everyone here was untrustworthy and vicious... Telling herself this made her panic, and her heart began to race as she stared at the officer of Immortalys.

"Greetings," said the officer as he brushed back his hair and stood casually in front of them. He was tall, and his voice had a slight accent that Willow had never heard before. "I hope you have not sustained any injuries upon your arrival?"

Willow was too tensed up to reply. He looked far too calm, like he was mocking their fears. He was absurdly pale, as if he had never done anything useful outdoors in his life, and his arched eyebrows and long eyelashes were equally chalky. His messy, wavy hair was such a vivid ginger color that it was annoying. Willow fixed her gaze on those striking and slightly unnerving deep eyes and gave the most venomous glare she could manage. It was the only way she could hide her intense fear.

When he got no answer, the officer gave a small shrug and said, "Well, Willow and Friction, I know exactly what you are thinking right now." He held his head high as he walked slowly to the right side of the room, turned around, and paced back to the other side. Willow noticed he had casually placed his hand above a shiny silver pistol on his belt. "You are wondering why you are imprisoned for entering the city, and what gave us the right to do such to you."

"How... how do you know our names?" Friction rasped.

"You had several items on you upon your arrival," the officer answered, "so it was quite easy to guess who was who."

Willow then noticed with a jolt of terror that all of her pockets were empty. In vain, she gave herself a wild pat-down, and then looked up at the officer. Her keys, her cards, her money— all of it was gone.

"...That is not... you can't do that!" Her voice came out raspy. With a new surge of anger, she tried to think of a better response. "...You can't just take our stuff! This violates... um... laws! Human rights! Due process!"

The officer laughed and paused in his pacing. "Those laws you've grown up with don't apply here."

Willow glanced at Friction, whose sky-blue eyes were wide with trepidation.